Coinflip
by xymos
Summary: An unlucky Khan recounts his story within his own mind and tries to look for answers, while he rides passenger to his mutated body. Now a deathclaw, he doesn't have control over what he does physically. But is it possible to find a solution? Maybe the past holds the answers to unlocking the future. (Transformation)
1. Chapter 1

How long have I been like this?

Days into weeks, weeks into months, months into... Something. It's all a blur.

Stuck as passenger to my own body. Well, it's not really mine anymore, in the conventional sense. I find myself receiving information in flashes – bits and pieces of what my body is doing without my consciousness. Guess I've sort of learned to think within the subconscious, as that's where these thoughts reside, or at least that's where my "self" is locked up. I often try to replay the past events that led up to where I am now, trying to scrape up an explanation or a solution.

The small amount of current events that are relayed to me are quite frightening, to say the least. Constant bloodshed, hunting, feasting. It would be quite the spectacle if it weren't the fact that I'm forced to witness these acts of ferocity and know that it's me doing it. Well, like I said, it's not really "me". Allow me to explain.

Some time ago, I became a deathclaw.

Yes, yes, I know. It seems ridiculous. That's what I thought, I just assumed I was tripping hard on Jet when the changes started to occur. It slowly turned into a nightmarish fever-dream of steadily changing and losing time, and not just a few minutes here and there. I was losing days and days at a time, until it became how it is now... Only small flashes of my body's actions, and not even through my own eyes. It's like watching one of those pre-war televisions.

Like all things, it began very simply. In this case it began in the form of a coinflip. Damn, do I wish I had lady luck on my side.

Allow me to take you back to my halcyon days of being a raider. Ah, what a time to be alive. The NCR hadn't fully established itself in California yet, being just a glorified police force for Shady Sands at that point. The Brotherhood kept out of people's hair for the most part as well, other than a couple of outposts here and there, like in the Den. The Enclave were a real pain in the ass, though. I can't tell you how many times I watched my fellow raiders get melted into a pile of goo, or zapped into ashes because of those freaks.

Hah, that's rich, me calling them freaks... At least they're still human. Mostly.

I was a member of the Khans, and quite a high-ranking member as well. I proved myself to be incredibly accurate and deadly with the standard-issue FN FAL they gave to recruits, and that's where I got my nickname Rec. To be honest, I can't even remember my birth name, and I don't know if that's because of my brain's new trend of bloodlust, or that I was a raider for over half my life.

Fair skinned and dark haired, I stood at a whopping five-foot five, and weighed an astounding one-hundred twenty pounds. And that was in my late twenties... I did get compliments from the ladies for my blue eyes, but not much else. It was probably pity, come to think of it.

I was abducted when I was just hitting puberty, and they used me as a moving target 'til the guy shooting at me got a rock to the face from fifty yards. It just took off from there, and I ended up adjusting fairly quickly to the life of a Khan. I still remember my first assignment: Go with a unit to a local farming settlement some miles away and come back with any guns, ammo, and meds we could find. What I found odd was that we were given specific orders not to kill anyone unprovoked. Anyways, that's beside the point.

After a decade of moving up the ranks and leading firefights, I got a bit more sedentary since my prowess allowed a bit of slacking. I took to hanging out at the bar more often, just shooting the shit with my fellow Khans. You know how that goes – fights break out, gambling happens, someone gets shot in the foot... The usual shit. Well, my buddy Bones and I wanted to make a bet, but we both had different ideas. So, we opted for the universal conflict-resolver: A coinflip.

I picked heads, and Bones picked tails. It landed on tails, of course. His bet was a lot more intense than mine was... Bones wanted to see who could get closest to a sleeping deathclaw without waking it up.

Now, I'm a pretty lithe guy. The only reason I've lived this long was because I'm such a small target to hit compared to my beefy, beer-gutted comrades. So, I was fairly confident that I could beat him in this bet and make an easy win. Pair that with the fact Bones wasn't classified outside the "beefy, beer-gutted" category I mentioned, and it seemed like a no-brainer. He has dark hair and fair skin like me, so people would joke that he was my dad. Even though he's younger by five years...

Ah, do keep in mind that my mind didn't only go through negative changes. Deathclaws are extremely intelligent and curious creatures, and I definitely received a lot of that benefit myself, so that's why I might describe my previous actions regrettably. It's kind of embarrassing to admit that I was likely dumber than a deathclaw. But come on, being a raider for that long would take its toll on anybody's psyche.

So, Bones "knew a place" about ten miles out from the base, so it was quite a hike. If anything went wrong, we were alone out there. But we went anyways. He mentioned it was some cave that he'd found when scouting for enemies around the base, and we both hoped the beast was sleeping when we got there. Bones did bring RadAway, stims, and a couple pairs of rubber boots, so I do have to give him credit for his preparedness there.

Nothing eventful came about during our hike. Contrary to popular belief, the Wasteland really isn't out to get you as much as people say, that's just a survival mechanism passed down the generations to keep humans safer. Like being afraid of the dark. What you need to be afraid of out there for the most part is your food and water supply dwindling.

A few hours later when we got to the cave, Bones immediately threw on the rubber boots over his combats.

Bones joked, "Rec, just be sure to give my dead body to my girlfriend, I'm sure she'd wanna kiss this mug one last time."

"Yeah yeah, not before I kiss 'er myself," I replied.

"Sloppy seconds, Rec. Careful with that shit," Bones said, with a smirk.

And off he went.

I gotta hand it to him, he was so quiet I don't think a mouse would've noticed him. He was like, breaking the laws of physics or something... I watched him disappear into the mouth of the cave, and I took a seat on a nearby rock. Must have been at least half an hour before he came back out. And when he did, I almost shit my pants right then and there.

What looked like an alpha-male deathclaw was chasing the poor bastard out of the cave into the desert. Out of the freezer, and into the frying pan... I immediately I got my rifle ready to fire, and started shooting to distract the thing from my friend.

"You ain't leavin' here in pieces, Bones! Keep runnin'!" I yelled.

I kept taking careful aim at this thing, but its hide was just too tough and it was moving too fast to hit its vitals that well. My goal worked, though. It was definitely distracted... The angle of its movement changed quite quickly toward my direction, and I had to reload. This wasn't good. As it got closer to me by the second, I tried to look for Bones, but he was nowhere to be seen. Fuck, this really wasn't good. I don't blame him for hiding, one survivor is better than zero.

This deathclaw got within ten yards from me and let out the most blood-curdling roar I had ever heard. Anxiety set in, and I ended up playing ring-around-the-rosie with this deathclaw between the large rock I had been sitting on. It got increasingly frustrated, and just heaved the rock aside after about ten seconds of this.

"Shit," I muttered to myself.

As if to reply to me, the deathclaw roared again, albeit less ferocious than last time.

The next events happened within seconds, but it felt like minutes. I knew it would try to strike me with its claws, so I stepped toward the deathclaw to avoid that. Instead, its palm hit me, which still crushed my right bicep and the ribs behind it, but it didn't kill me. The next swing came from below, and the deathclaw was still too close to hit me full-force, so I basically got drop-kicked by a five-foot long arm with claws, and was thrown into the air.

Flip, flip, flip... I got dizzy mid-flight.

And a loud thwack signified my landing.

I landed on heads this time.. The deafening ringing in my skull let me know that one.

Groaning and rolling my eyes uncontrollably, I tried to get up but just kept falling down. My vision was blurry, and my legs felt very weak. I had a concussion, and my neck was probably severely injured as well, in addition to the gashes on my inner thighs from the last hit I took.

With each failed attempt to raise myself, the deathclaw stepped closer, and my anxiety doubled. I was freaking the fuck out, trying to plead with the beast due to my concussion. I had no idea what was going on. It grabbed my legs and dragged me toward the cave, with me babbling the whole way.

When I reached the cave, my vision was starting to come back to me, and I realized what was going on.

_"How am I gonna get out of this,"_ I wondered to myself.

Suddenly, my arms and torso started to burn, and horribly. I caught the deathclaw off-guard with my screams and it got a bit startled, but kept dragging me deeper into the cave. I realized this burning was because the deathclaw was dragging me through puddles of toxic waste. It took an indomitable amount of will to stay awake during this torture, but I needed to remember the layout of this cave if I, no, _when_ I escape.

The deathclaw stopped, and then threw me aside into what looked like a nest, with bones strewn everywhere within this little alcove. It was at this point that I had any sort of freedom after being ragdolled by this thing, and I took that time to check my wounds.

That toxic waste had gotten into my leg wounds, and I was sitting in a nest of old shells and bones. This was going to be an infection, and there was no question about it. The question was, would I be able to make it back to base on pure adrenaline and willpower alone? The answer was no, but I didn't know that at the time.

After what felt like hours, the deathclaw came back to the nest, and approached me with an aggressive stance. I no longer had the tools or stamina to fight this thing, so I just sat there eyeing this thing. Wasn't this creature created, and not mutated? I remember reading a pre-war magazine about some kind of lizard that was being experimented on.

My thoughts were cut short by an immediate loss of breath, and a realization that the deathclaw had just slashed me across the chest with its claws. Blood poured out onto the ground, and I was left in disbelief. This many years alive, wasted... My life, wasted, pouring out of my body before me. It was unfair. Looks like I _wasn't_ escaping, after all.

Instead of screaming in pain, I just started to break down and cry as I bled out. In hindsight, it was definitely because of the insane amount of adrenaline pulsing through my bloodstream. But that was fading quickly. I felt more pain, and more cloudy as time passed, due to losing adrenaline and oxygen from my blood spilling on the floor.

The deathclaw got within inches of me, and I was praying for it to end my life.

Instead it sniffed and snorted, inspecting me as my pain shot through the roof.

"Kill me already..."  
"Kill... me..." My voice trailed, its face still inches from mine.

I lost consciousness, fading into a comfortable dream I can no longer remember.

/

* * *

Notes: Originally this was supposed to be a goofy story where a merchant gets turned into a mirelurk and continues his business, but I took the basic plot points and made something more serious instead. There's also some references to character builds too (Rec uses small guns, throwing, and first aid, and some very light references to SPECIAL)

Please leave a review on what I can do better or anything you can think of, like plot holes or incorrect lore! It's my first fanfic and I'm looking forward to learning from this.


	2. Chapter 2

Bloody, dark, and bleak. That's the best way to describe the situation I found myself in after getting dragged into that cave. There's no way to tell how long I had been out cold, as most light that deep into the cave was lost. As I started to awake, I smelled a foul stench in the nest that reminded me of rotting meat. I tried to get up, but my legs wouldn't respond.

_"Fuck, I hope that beast didn't turn me into a cripple,"_ I wondered.  
_"Maybe I'll be able to –"_

My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden flash of red light down one of the tunnels. It got brighter and brighter until I was nearly blinded, and I soon realized it was a signal flare! Bones had come back for me!

"R...Rec?! Dee, get him checked out!"

The pudgy man waved another guy, of average build, to my corner in the cave. To my knowledge, it was just those two here.

As my comrade tended to and inspected my wounds, I understood why Bones left me there. He knew this was going to go south after he got caught, and figured I'd be able to pull through. The fact that I was still alive wasn't of my own volition, though. I just had a stroke of luck. Hah, that's a welcome change.

"Your wounds are real bad. We need'a get you back as soon as we can, it's too fuckin' dirty here. We got rotgut at base to disinfect this," Dee remarked. I guess I was in pretty grim shape.

"What in the _fuck_ happened to that thing?" Bones exclaimed, pointing to the other side of the nest.

Bones edged closer with his flare-holding hand outstretched in front of him, gradually illuminating the deathclaw that got me into this mess. It was completely stationary, devoid of life. The state of its body was grisly enough to make Dee dry-heave. When I looked at it, my heart and stomach felt heavy and weak. Whatever did that... I didn't wanna know. I just hoped it wasn't anywhere near my fellow Khans.

The deathclaw's lower jaw was completely removed from its skull, with everything ripped all the way down its neck and exposing the top of its ribcage. It was like an anatomical cutaway model of the throat. In addition to the lower jaw dangling near its stomach, both of its arms had been broken halfway down the forearm and bent totally wrong directions. The beast's head stared blankly downward in defeat at the pool of its own blood.

"We should really get the hell out of here, Bones," Dee worriedly suggested.

"Y-Yeah... I laid flares down to mark our way out, so we better leave soon," Bones replied, with an understandable amount of unease in his voice.

Bones hoisted me onto his back, and I latched onto his torso. He followed the flares carefully and quietly, just as sneaky as he was before. I could barely hear him whatsoever. Even in my grave state, I found it funny how a guy as big as that could be that stealthy.

We got out of the cave still intact, and stepped out into the Wasteland. It was almost nighttime, so that must mean I was in that cave for over seven hours. Those guys didn't waste any time hustling over here.

"Hold up. We need to give Rec some water. Here."

Dee held up a canteen to my mouth, and I drank the contents completely. Who knew, almost getting killed makes you a bit thirsty.

"Alright, let's get going," Bones said, while leading the way.

A few hours later, and we were approaching the base. My comrades rushed inside, and made a brisk pace toward the "medical bay". It wasn't much more than a converted bathroom, really. Bones set me down on one of the tables and took most of my clothes off. Dee rummaged through a drawer and quickly produced some rotgut, while Bones gave his regards and left, but not before telling Dee to take perfect care of my wounds.

"Alright, Rec. This is gonna hurt real bad, don't bite your damn tongue off, y'hear?" Dee warned.

I nodded weakly. Fuck, this might hurt worse than those toxic waste burns...

An uncomfortable silence.

"Well, are you gonna get on with it?" I asked.

"Uh, I've already poured the whole fuckin' bottle. You didn't feel that shit?"

"Not one tingle."

"Can you move all your toes for me?" Dee requested firmly.

I complied, and I felt them move.

"That's not good, man. Your nerves must have got busted or somethin'. At least you can still move 'em. We'll get ya some RadAway for those radiation burns, too."

"I thought these were chemical burns," I commented.

"Nah man, those are radiation burns a hundred-percent. I've seen enough of 'em to know. Keep a Geiger on you from now on and stay out of any rad zones," he said while administering the RadAway.

Well, shit. No wonder I couldn't feel any pain in my legs, that radioactive waste probably melted the nervous system right out of my body. Dee kept dressing my wounds and lecturing me about staying out of trouble. It was warranted – I should've had the sense to reject that stupid bet.

"Alright, lookin' good man. Don't bust that bandage job up or I'm gonna have to drag you in here again. Be sure to disinfect your wounds daily, I'd hate to have to amputate those chicken legs," Dee jabbed.

"At least I don't got a face like a ghoul," I retorted.

"Low blow, man. They have feelings too, you know."

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Can you help me to my room? I'm pretty tired," I asked.

Surprisingly, I was able to walk even without crutches, albeit very slowly and with Dee's help. We made as little haste as possible to my small room, taking our time walking through the corridors. After finally reaching my room, I sent Dee off with a 'goodnight', shut the door and laid down on my humble mattress.

I went out like a light within minutes, and fell into a deep sleep, with a vivid dream.

* * *

_I'm somewhere peaceful. A field? Ah, the wind on my face feels nice...  
__There's somebody up ahead, under that tree. It looks so beautiful with all the green leaves.  
__I approach closer through the green grass to get a better look at who this was.  
__It's... My mother? Why's she in this place?  
__"...Mom? How'd you get here?" I called out.  
__She turned to face me with a warm smile.  
__But as she fully faced me, her smile turned to disgust and terror.  
__I tried to speak, to ask her 'What? What's wrong?'  
__But nothing came out, just garbled, guttural noises. Why?  
__She screamed, and screamed until I had to cover my ears and shut my eyes.  
__Let this be over, please. I don't deserve this.  
__I opened my eyes quickly, only to see a flash. A single glimpse. My mother's corpse, cleaved in tw-_

* * *

I awakened with a horrified gasp, my face and body drenched with sweat. I could do nothing but lay there and continue my quickened breath, still stunned by the nightmare. I try to recount how this mental state could've been acquired, go back and play the events in my head. No matter how hard I concentrate, faces and conversations are gone, only what led me to that cave remains. No banter or acquaintances remain.

What's happening to my mind? I don't think like this. I'm afraid to sleep. A raider afraid of anything ain't no raider. I'm not fit for this anymore, maybe I've run my tenure to the end and I need to retire from this madness. My father always said I'd outgrow my interests in violence when I got older. Violence cheapens life, he'd say.

I need to get a grip. Time to hit the showers, maybe that'll help clear my head.

It's very early in the morning, no one else is awake. Even the prisoners are in a peaceful slumber on the dirt floors of their cells. On my way to the showers, I notice I'm having no issues walking at all, if anything my legs feel better than they did two days ago. With my fragile mental state, this really irks me, so I hurry even faster.

I get to the showers, and throw my clothes off and into the corner. Jumping into one of the curtained cubicles, I throw the latch, and cold well water flows out after a few sputters. I relish in the cold water covering me, slowing my heartbeat to a more manageable pace. Just what I needed, any kind of relaxation at all.

The water soaks into the bandages around my thighs, making me aware of their presence. Wait, why aren't there bandages on my chest? I was mortally wounded there, Dee should've been able to see my ribs. What the hell? That pain I felt, it was real. It happened, definitely. But my chest was perfectly normal.

As the bandages got more waterlogged, they started to droop more and more until I felt them sliding down my legs. I cursed at nothing in particular, and bent down to pick them back up, and that's when my breath stopped and a rock formed in my stomach.

"Oh, fuck... _Fuck_, what's that shit?!" I exclaimed.

I continued staring at my thighs. The area surrounding the wounds by a good inch or two was very rough and discolored in a light brown-ish hue. I scratched it with my fingernails. It felt like hard leather. Looks like the wounds were mostly closed up, too. Should I ask Dee about this? Can I ask Bones for help? They're both experts on Wasteland diseases. No, no, I've never seen this before. This is fucked.

I stopped my shower and threw my clothes back on without drying, and I ran back to my room. I'll go back there and come up with ideas. There has to be an answer for what's happening to me. I can't rely on anyone else to help with this.

I made sure to lock the door to my small room before sitting down on my mattress, propping myself against the wall. I started to rack my brains, and will myself to concentrate as hard as I possibly could. This is some kind of sickness, I know that. But from what? The radioactive waste? The bones in the nest? The deathclaw?

Well, the entry point was my leg wounds I received from the deathclaw, I know that. I was dragged through the waste, and it got into my wounds. So, did I get some mutation from the deathclaw? Wait, no. Deathclaws were genetically engineered, not mutated. There's no way I could get a mutation of any kind from one, was there? Even if I did get a mutation or some rare fast-acting infection from a deathclaw, there's no way it would be altering large organs like the skin to this degree.

I stroked the rough skin through my fatigues. It almost feels like I'm still in a dream. I'm so tired... Ah, I can't sleep after that nightmare. I wish I could have some closure already, and it feels like this has just begun. And what happened to that deathclaw? Did another creature save me from it?

Questions can wait. When day breaks, I've decided I'm going to go find my own answers. If I remember correctly, Vault City to the north-east has a library and bookstore. Maybe I can find some information there. I'll gather what supplies and money I have, and be on my way as low-profile as possible. Better get to planning...

/

* * *

Notes: Things picked up a little here, notably the first visibly described mutation, and the first 'quest'. A little bit of psychological horror too. Was it too extreme? Let me know any opinions/suggestions in the reviews please!


	3. Chapter 3

The ceiling lights of the cavernous complex I called home bled under my door, reminding me of my mission. I'm getting prepared to leave for Vault City, wondering what I should tell my comrades. I think I'll go with 'scouting mission'. My reputation will prevent people from questioning why. No one short of Darion would even bother asking, and we're almost two-hundred miles from main base. I'd sooner run into those damned Bishop mercs.

As I gathered my necessities, I was acutely aware of the patches of hard skin on my thighs. It was rubbing against my fatigues, creating an uncomfortable and alien sensation. I found my mind wandering, thinking about what might happen if I let this spread. I was already mentally unstable, and this is day two. I shudder to think what week two will be like if I don't figure this shit out.

Satisfied with my supplies, I grabbed a small bag to carry my money in, and put it into my pack. Throwing on my backpack and combats, I left my room and headed down the hall. A few other Khans were patrolling the base, and with their firearms oddly enough. Most of the Khans just leave their issued guns unused and opt for melee weapons. Seems like security got jacked up, I wonder if there's something going on.

Well, it doesn't concern me now. I'll be halfway to Vault City by the time whatever operation they have planned goes into action. I've already accepted that I will be marked AWOL, but I'll be back and worry about the punishment then. Nodding as I pass by my allies, I finally reach the entrance. Leaving through the front door is always the least suspicious.

As I opened the front gate, I could feel the heat coming from the sun. This was going to be quite a walk, as we didn't have much in terms of transportation, let alone a running vehicle and the means to power it. I did one last check of my supplies to make sure I had enough food and water for the journey plus two days. I packed some Mentats, just in case I need some extra clarity. I had my tent. Everything looked in order, so I went on my way.

"Rec! Where you goin', man?!" I heard a voice bellow from behind me. I sighed internally.

Ugh, just what I needed. I could practically smell who it was from twenty yards away.

"I'm scouting around the base for enemies, I'm thinking ten miles or so. My legs feel a lot better now, tell Dee thanks for me," I replied, without turning.

"Are you sure, man? W-Well, alright then. Stay safe out there alright? We got a raid comin' up, it'd be nice to have 'ya for it."

"I'll be fine. You watch yourself, Bones. It was almost your ass under those claws. And don't have too much fun without me," I said.

I could tell he knew I was bullshitting. But, if I was out "scouting", that's all it was. If there was anything you could count on Bones for, it was his loyalty as a friend.

With that conversation over, I started walking again. I looked at the sun – it seemed be an hour or two after sunrise, probably eight or nine. I had around thirteen hours of daylight before dusk. I needed to head straight north-east if I wanted to make it to Vault City with what supplies I packed, and it'll take me around three to four days. Going north to Modoc first was out of the question, I'd have to cross the mountains. Going north-east might have me run into those Bishop mercs, though. I'll just hope we don't cross paths.

Making sure to check my compass often, I continued north-east. I managed to walk for quite a while without running into anything. At around midday I came across an abandoned supply truck in the middle of some kind of dried-up pond. There were barrels everywhere, looked like bad news. I went with my better judgment and avoided it.

I kept walking, and eventually the sun was around an hour from setting. I needed to find a place to hide my tent and sleep. Any rock formation or grouping of trees would do. I scanned my surroundings – looks like there's a small arrangement of hills a mile or two west. I'll be backtracking a little bit, but I can't risk some unwanted party getting the jump on me while I sleep.

This was a really good spot, there's a few dried up bushes and dead trees here too. I started setting my small tent up between the brush and the west-facing side of this hill. Pretty good cover, it'd be difficult to spot this. After setting up my tent, I unrolled my cloth mattress, and unfolded a blanket from my pack. I got settled in before it turned dark, and just laid there listening to the sounds of the wasteland until I started to drift off into sleep.

I woke to the bright light of the sun, seemingly undisturbed from my slumber the whole night. This time I didn't experience any nightmares. That's a relief... I can't imagine one much worse than I already had, and I don't want to. I felt dirty from sleeping in my clothes, but it's necessary when traveling like this. Suddenly, I remembered why I was out here in the first place – my mutation.

I quickly pulled down my fatigues to check my thighs, and stared at what I saw.

It had spread overnight... The ellipses of hard leathery brown skin on the insides of my thighs were now close to six inches tall and half as wide. That's twice as bad as it was twelve hours ago. It seems like the mutation only progresses when I sleep. I felt the texture of my altered skin, wondering how much longer I had. It pained me to realize, but it felt like a deathclaw's hide.

I can't sidestep that possibility anymore. It's a pretty obvious conclusion to make at this point. I need to stop denying what's happening and start figuring out solutions, before it's too late. I should pack up and keep walking, time's wasting. I ate some jerky, drank some water, and packed up my tent. But before I continue, nature calls. I walk to the nearby brush to relieve myself.

...Wait, what's this? There's some kind of liquid on the ground nearby... I touched the mixture of dirt and liquid lightly with my finger, and it stuck to my flesh like a syrup. It was thick and dark red. This was blood. And it looks like something lost a _lot_ of it, not long ago. What the hell's going on? First that deathclaw mysteriously dying, now random patches of blood in the wasteland? I'm being followed by someone... Or some_thing_.

The sun on the back of my head was beating down, testing my willpower to continue. I began trudging along north-east, counting my steps to pass the time. Based on the sun's position, I have about the same time as yesterday to walk, around thirteen hours. If I hustle, it's possible I could make it to Vault City by midday tomorrow. I just need to keep an eye out for movement, as I was now crossing a huge flat piece of land that looked like it stretched over fifty miles. It'd be really bad to be spotted by an enemy gang or marauders in this totally open terrain... Anyone with a scope or binoculars could spot a person from over five miles out here.

Many hours pass, and my first large canteen is now empty. I have two more, and there are cactus I could use in dire straits. My jerky supply is still strong, I haven't felt hungry since eating some of it this morning. That's probably just loss of appetite from stress, I'll force myself to eat a little bit.

More time goes by without anything happening. Clear skies, clear horizon, no gunshots. The sun is getting lower in the sky, I should try and find a place to camp now rather than later. The only problem is, I don't see any sort of hills, brush, or anything I could use for cover. I'll have to dig a ditch for my tent. Ugh...

Luckily it's a small tent, maybe two foot high, five foot long, and three foot wide. That's around thirty cubic feet, which means I had to displace over a half-ton of dirt for a suitable hole. I got out my portable spade and started digging. It took me a few minutes to break the top layer of hard earth. Should take me about an hour and a half to finish the hole, two feet isn't terribly deep.

I finished digging by dusk, and I was losing light fast. I unpacked my tent as quickly as I could, rolled the blanket out inside and stuffed my pack in there. Then I took a look from twenty yards at my hole. Yeah, it did the job well. I had dispersed the pile of dirt I'd made from digging the ditch out around the area randomly, so you couldn't see any random piles from afar. From over fifty yards, you wouldn't even know this existed.

Satisfied with my work, I opened the flap to my tent and crawled inside, tired after all the walking and that intensely paced digging. I started to drift off within minutes, until a strange sound kept me awake. I heard a cracking noise. Fuck, did someone stumble upon my camp?! I laid a hand on my weapon, ready to move it toward me if I heard another sound.

I didn't hear anything after that, and my mind started to wander before being able to relax again.

_"Is this thing going to spread again tonight...?"_ I wondered to myself, while touching my affliction. If this spreads at the same rate as last night, I'll be in trouble before I can even leave Vault City...

My worries washed away, drowned in my fatigue, and I fell into a deep trance-like dream state.

* * *

_ Ah, I'm dreaming again? I feel so light-headed... Where am I?  
__"You're in the desert, boy," said a masculine voice behind me.  
__I spun around to face the voice, and I saw an older man with long, straight, raven-black hair.  
__He was wearing a colorful woven poncho, and spoke smoothly with sage wisdom.  
__"You need to come to terms with yourself, and accept it." he spoke.  
__"What are you talking about? Accept what?" I replied, while leaning down to meet his gaze.  
__"You should not ask questions. You must accept yourself before you can ask anything."  
__Accept myself? This had to be a joke, right? I mean, I'm not the most manly guy around, but...  
__"No. You assume. Look for yourself, and open your eyes," he spoke, as if reading my mind.  
__I tried to do as he said, open my eyes, look around me. I looked up at the sun, and it blinded me.  
__I put my hand in front of my eyes to block the light, and that's when I saw.  
__Light illuminating the silhouette of a monstrous weapon.  
__I looked down, and it all came crashing into view.  
__My eyes saw strong, raptor-like legs, and I could feel an alien sensation behind me.  
__I touched my skin, it was scaly and tough. I'd fully become a deathclaw.  
__"I can't accept this! I didn't ask for this!" I tried to yell, but no words came out, just growls.  
__"If you cannot accept yourself, then you will suffer,__" the man disappointingly stated._

* * *

I woke up slowly from my dream, soaking it in. I remembered it all, and I tried to understand what it meant, if it meant anything at all. I was peaceful, mentally, for the first time in what felt like years all because of this dream. It really made me think outside looking in for once, even if it was for a short time.

"Ouch!"

Damn, that hurt. Feels like my tooth cracked, and I bit my tongue. I think I heard it crack, too. I spit out a small chunk of hard white material. I hope my teeth aren't decaying any more than they were already. Raiders don't really keep up on oral hygiene. I stuck my finger in to feel the damage, and one of my upper incisors felt... Sharp. Pointed sharp. Oh, no. Don't tell me it's gotten this far.

I gulped hard, and realized what this might mean for ground zero. I unbuttoned my fatigues, and pulled them down as quickly as I could to get it over with.  
"Oh, Christ!" I exclaimed, wincing upon seeing my legs. I was beginning to hyperventilate a bit. My peacefulness was now gone...

The patches of thick hide weren't patches anymore. Both thighs were now completely afflicted, front and back. Almost reaching to the knees, and nearly reaching to the pelvis above. My legs were noticeably heavier than they were last night, too. Right, deathclaws weigh hundreds of pounds. I'm barely over one-hundred.

I ran my hands up and down the mutated tissue, trying to familiarize myself with its feeling, thinking about what the man in my dream said. What I'm becoming isn't who I am right now, but I don't have to fight the inevitable. I could easily accept what's happening to me and be better off. But I'm attached to who I am right now, how can I throw away my identity at the drop of a hat?

Pulling my fatigues back up and lacing my combats to my feet, I curse my luck and start planning the day. If I huff it most of the way, I can reach Vault City today. No, I _need_ to make it today. I can't go back to sleep without knowing what'll happen next.

/

* * *

Notes: We're still technically in the past, but you'll notice I'm using less past-tense verbiage. This is because Rec's basically reliving these events, almost like a simulation. He's trying to find a detail, maybe even just a single small answer that can help him control his body again. The closer the timeline gets to the present, the less past-tense is gonna be used.

Side note: I'm thinking about incorporating the Chosen One into the plot somehow, maybe even the higher-ranked faction officials too later on. Leave a review on anything you can think of, future ideas or past chapters!


	4. Chapter 4

The last stretch of my journey consists of basically flat ground, making it quite easy compared to the first day of travel. I might even be able to get a bed to sleep in tonight if I'm lucky. It's roughly ten o'clock, and I've been walking for a while. I probably have four more hours to go 'till I'm in Vault City. Stopping to quell my loudly growling stomach, I eat some jerky and wash it down with a large swig of water, then continue on my way.

After some time, I can begin to see something in the distance – a dark speck. That must be the walls of Vault City! I started to walk faster without realizing it due to my excitement. Surely someone there will be able to point me in the right direction, it's a well-educated place after all. I hear the citizenship test is pretty rigorous.

I nodded to and passed a few of the city's patrol groups as I made my way. I approached the front gates after a few more minutes of walking, and saw two guards on either side, one man and one woman. I could see a large sign on the other side of the chain-link fence that read 'Greeting Office'. Maybe I should check it out.

Ugh, my hardened thigh skin is chafing against my fatigues. How unpleasant.

"Welcome to Vault City, outsider. You here on business?" said the black-haired woman.

"Yeah, I'm just here to trade," I replied.

"Go on in."

The semicircle-shaped gate made a noise, and was pulled downward into some kind of compartment underground. This place really is as high-tech as people said. There were even trees with green leaves on them. I entered the courtyard and crossed the walkway into the Greeting Office, and was approached by a grinning young man wearing a Vault suit.

"Hello and welcome to Vault City, the best city in New California! I'm Steve... How can I help you?" the happy man said, with vacant eyes.

"I'm looking for books on diseases and mutations, or someone who knows about them," I asked.

"Umm... Uh... You weren't supposed to ask that. There's no answer for that in here," he said, while thumbing through a pamphlet.

"I'll have to refer you to Melinda, the Chief Greeting Officer. She's right over there."

Steve pointed to his left toward the front desk, and there was a black-haired woman wearing another one of those Vault suits standing behind it. I approached her to ask her the same question.

"Hello. I don't think I've seen you around here before. Welcome to Vault City. Is there anything I can help you with?" Melinda inquired, with a noticeable lack of motivation.

"Yeah, I'm looking for some books related to mutations or diseases. Or someone who knows a lot about them?" I inquired.

"Hmm... Well, there's two doctors in the city. Doctor Andrew is out here in the courtyard, and Doctor Troy is in the Vault. However, I must tell you only Citizens are allowed in the Vault. There's also an Amenities office, which is run by Randal in the city itself. He may have some technical books. But you'll need a day pass to get in," she explained, in surprisingly useful detail.

"Thanks for your help, I'll see what I can find out," I replied.

"Good day," she waved to me as I turned to leave the building.

I turn right and start heading further into the courtyard, and I spot a sign that reads 'Clinic' near a well. That's probably Doctor Andrew's place, I should pay him a visit. I saunter over to the front door of the clinic, and open it to peek inside. There's a scruffy-looking man in a dirty brown shirt, with disconcerting red rashes all over his arms, bending over a sickbed... This guy isn't the doctor, is he?

"You here to get patched up?" The raggedy man asked.

"N-No, I think I'll pass. I'm here just to ask a couple questions, if you don't mind."

"Shoot," the 'doctor' said.

"I need to know any information you have about severe mutations."

"How severe are we talkin'?"

My eyes darted left and right. "Severe enough to change someone head-to-toe," I hastily spoke.

"You mean like a ghoul or super mutant?"

"Similar to a ghoul's mutation process, but not humanoid. Radiation is involved."

"Hmm... I dunno. I just fix people up, to tell you the truth. I wanted to see how much you'd tell me. I think you'd do a lot better asking Doctor Troy, but good luck getting in the Vault."

I'm seething with anger at this point. What a waste of time this man was.

"Thanks for your help, Doc... Bye."

As I spun around to leave, I bumped chest-first into another man. He was a bit taller than me, and had short brown hair. I noticed he was wearing one of those Vault suits as well. Maybe I should ask him about the Vault in the city?

"Sorry about that," the man apologized, "name's Cole," he said, extending a hand.

I shook his hand, caught off-guard by the hospitality, and replied, "It's alright. I'm Rec. You one of the citizens here?"

"Oh, no. This suit is from my ancestor's Vault. Why do you ask?"

"I'm trying to get into the city, and potentially the Vault, for information related to severe mutations and diseases."

"I can get you inside, but no promises on the Vault. I've got a day pass," Cole offered, while scratching his head.

"I'd really appreciate that. What do you want in return?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad to help."

Was this guy the Wasteland's superhero or something?

"I'll be back, Doc. Gonna help him out first," Cole announced, and motioned for me to follow him outside. I obliged, and we walked toward the inner city along the paved road. As I walked behind him, I noticed his vault suit had the number thirteen on the back.

"So what brings you here, Cole?" I asked quizzically.

"My tribe needs a GECK, and they come from Vaults. I'm seeing if Vault Eight has another."

I pieced together that Vault City must have originally been Vault Eight. Didn't know what a 'geck' was though. I didn't reply, and we kept walking toward the inner city gate.

As we approached it, one of the guards stepped forward and asked, "Day pass, please."

Cole reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ticket, and handed it to one of the guards. Tilting his head towards me, Cole said "He's with me. We have some trading to do inside." After a short pause, the guard gave the piece of paper back to Cole.

"We're going to have to search you both to make sure you're clean," the closest guard said, waiting for our answer.

Cole and I both nodded our heads in agreement, and the guard who was speaking patted us down individually and looked through our bags.

"I'm afraid this isn't allowed inside the city. We'll have to hold it for you," the armed man spoke, holding my Mentats in his hand. Ah, shit. Well, it's just temporary, so I guess it's fine.

"That's fine, I'll pick them up later," I replied, giving him permission to keep them.

"Then you're free to go in. Remember, you have until night," the guard warned.

The gates were suddenly opened in a similar fashion to the ones in the courtyard, except this one looked a bit sturdier. There were also noticeably more auto-turrets around the perimeter of the inner city. To our immediate right was what looked like a bar, called the 'Tap House'. Past that there was a building marked 'Amenities'. That's what I'm looking for.

"Hey Cole, thanks again. I was prepared to pay you for that," I stated humbly.

"Don't mention it. Say, you needed to speak with a doctor, right? There's another one in the Vault. If I get granted citizenship, I could bring you in there."

"Are you stringing me on? Is this a scam?" I questioned.

Cole laughed. "No, no, no. You just looked like you needed the help. I mean, you've got a backpack bigger than mine! You came here for a reason just like I did, at least that's what I gathered."

You know, he wasn't really that wrong. But he's definitely not a good judge of character, seeing as I'm a Khan. I think he wouldn't feel too good about me if that was known. I'd hate for this guy to be taken advantage of by someone out for his head.

"Thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt. It's really rare to find someone that's willing to help like you have. It almost warms up my cold, cold heart."

He laughed again. That time it seemed almost like a courtesy laugh toward the last part of my sentence. That was my way of prodding his 'alignment', for lack of a better word. I'm getting a goody two-shoes vibe. Damn, this guy's way too trusting.

"Well, I'll come by the Amenities office after I talk to the First Citizen. It could be a while, but with some luck we'll be able to get in that Vault for what we both need."

"I need to check the books out there anyways. Good luck."

Cole spun around and headed further into the city, presumably toward the large domed building. Has official written all over it. I, on the other hand, open the doors to the Amenities office and step inside. It's a pretty small building, and upon stepping in I can see a black-haired man with a Vault suit on sitting at a desk, opposite the door.

"You're Randal, right?"

He jumped in his seat a bit, shuffling the chair against the floor.

"Y-you startled me! Sorry. I'm Randal, yes. Can I help you with something, outsider?"

"I was told by Melinda that you have technical books for sale. Can I take a look at them?" I asked.

"Well, sorry to break it to you, but I'm only authorized to do transactions with Citizens. No offense to you, but it's the rule, you know?" Randal stated.

The amount of rage flowing through me at that moment was unbearable. I felt like I'd just explode into a gory paste.

"Well... Can you at least answer a couple of questions, or let me thumb through what books you have? I don't have to buy anything."

A solid loophole, I thought.

"That's quite a solid loophole, I think." Randal said, thoughtfully.

Of course.

"It's not breaking any rules, right?" I added.

"That's true, it's not breaking the rules. Well, ask away and I'll answer to the best of my ability."

"I'm trying to get information regarding severe mutations. Wait, let me be more clear. I'm trying to find out what would cause someone to turn into an entirely different creature, at least on the surface," I explained.

"Well, that's an interesting question. We here in Vault City abhor mutants, but they are fascinating nonetheless. You're not mutated, are you? I don't want to call the guards."

"No, it's a completely theoretical question. I'm fascinated by the subject," I lied.

"There is a substance known as FEV, the Forced Evolution Virus. It's where super mutants come from. But that's just provoked evolution, not mutating cells into another being altogether. I suppose that radiation might be able to achieve something similar, but completely changing say, a gecko into a brahmin, isn't possible at all," he explained.

"What about fringe cases, billion-to-one odds? Is it theoretically possible at all? And if so, what would the theory be?"

"Something like that might be closer to trillion-to-one odds, to be honest. The only way it'd be theoretically possible is involving DNA, at least to me it seems that way. If, somehow, DNA in a gecko's body were being attacked and replaced by a brahmin's DNA, the host could take on characteristics of the invading DNA. But, that's not confirmable, nor am I qualified to say. Doctor Troy would be able to answer this question with a sound theory, I'm sure. But only Citizens are allowed in the Vault."

"Everyone keeps telling me about Doctor Troy. I might consider taking that Citizenship test just to see if he's what he's cracked up to be." I commented.

Randal replied with gusto, "Doctor Troy is the best doctor in New California, no, maybe even the entire Wasteland." He seemed proud of his fellow citizen.

Randal and I ended up chatting about the wasteland, how we ended up where we are, what life's like as a Citizen here. We also thumbed through a few research papers, books, and things like that, but didn't find anything I needed to know. But I feel as though he was just being polite and didn't want to kick me out, or maybe it was an excuse to take a break from work. Either way, we ended up chatting for a while, all the way up 'till Cole was done with his business with the First Citizen. Still don't know what that means.

The door to the Amenities office opened. Randal and I turned to see another man dressed in a vault suit, who I recognized to be Cole. He didn't look defeated, was this good news?

"Hey, Rec," he waited for a few seconds before continuing, "I passed the Citizenship test, I've got access to the vault! Let's go."

Oh, I was elated. A break, finally. The first good news so far. I tried not to smile, to prevent my sharp front tooth from showing.

I can't wait to get answers from this Troy, though I do hope he isn't as prejudiced as Randal toward mutated people. It'd be bad if Troy found out about my condition, and locked me in that vault for a hundred years. And, I don't think I'll mention any of the mental effects, as those could be circumstantial and a by-product of the mutation, not necessarily _because_ of it.

"Goodbye," Randal said, as we left the building.

I gave the obligatory wave in response.

Cole and I left the Amenities building, and walked further up the road before turning to the right. There it was – the giant Vault door in the side of the mountain, with a huge, yellow eight on the front. We approached the guards near the door console, and they stepped forward with haste.

"Only Citizens are allowed in the vault, outsiders," one of the guards stated.

"Here's my Citizenship papers. He's with me," Cole motioned toward me.

The guards took the papers and inspected them with wonder, as if they'd never seen someone earn a Citizenship before. After a few long seconds, the men gave his paper back, and stepped back toward their posts.

"Head on in, Citizen. Keep your guest out of trouble."

The guard to the left of the blast door pressed a discreet button on the side of the frame for the giant door, and within seconds the door split down the middle vertically and started moving slowly to each side. It was pretty loud, but not unbearable. After another few seconds, it was open, inviting us inside.

We stepped up the small ramp between the guards, and made our way inside. I was greeted by an immediate right turn and a long hallway, leading to a room at the end. Once we got to the end of the hallway, we saw a massive bank-vault like door, built of solid steel, this thing had to be multiple feet thick. Thicker than the giant blast door outside. To the left of this gear-like door was a control console. Cole went up to it and began pressing buttons.

After a few seconds, Cole activated the door opening sequence. Lights started flashing, a warning siren went off, steam shot out of the hydraulic movement system – it was pretty chaotic. And then the noise. The noise... I swear I've never heard anything as loud in my entire life. I had immediate tinnitus I felt might last for days.

The cog-shaped door, after being pushed from its recessed compartment, was pushed to the side by a large metal arm, rolling it along the built-in treads on the ground. And, suddenly, it was open – we had access to Vault Eight.

"Well, let's go in." Cole said.

"Gladly." I responded.

This is it. If I couldn't get a solid answer out of this guy, I have to deal with this progressing mutation alone for who knows how long.

Here's hopin'...

/

* * *

Notes: Biggest dialogues so far are in this chapter. Sorry if it got boring. If you didn't notice already, Cole is the Chosen One. I picked that name since he's the Vault Dweller's grandson, and the Vault Dweller's name was Albert Cole (very likely). I tried to keep some dialogues true to F2 lore, but I did take many liberties with Randal's speech. I also figured Cole could be a valuable tool to use as kind of a "bonus support" character, Rec and Cole most likely won't be traveling together. Unless someone wants that? I wanted to have a mostly OC "main party"

Bottom line: Leave a review and tell me what you didn't/did like!


	5. Chapter 5

Cole and I stepped through the giant metal blast door, and into a grated hallway with solid steel walls. This place definitely looks like it would've survived a nuclear blast. Across the hallway from us was another thick blast door, but this one was actually shaped more like a traditional door than the one we just passed through. The Vault itself felt very chilly and unwelcoming. I don't like this place much.

With a few presses of a console mounted on the wall near the thick door, the two warning lights overhead flashed, alternating between each other. Not long after, the door split down the middle and each side shot outward into the walls they were connected to. These Vault guys really like their hidden door compartments, don't they?

"To the left's the elevator to the lower levels, and to the right should be the medical bay. I'm going to go down the elevator and see if there's anything interesting. Why don't you look for Doctor Troy in the med bay while I'm gone?" Cole rhetorically asked.

I replied, "Alright. I won't be long, hopefully. I'll wait for you outside."

We turned our seperate ways. I opened the door to the med bay, and standing not twenty feet in front of me was a fine-looking young woman. She was quite stunning, likely the best I've seen in a while. It didn't take long for her to notice me, I stuck out like a sore thumb in this pristine-looking Vault.

"Oh! Hello, there. I haven't seen you around before... are you a new Citizen?" she asked me, a bright smile on her face.

"No, I'm here with a Citizen."

"Well, welcome to Vault City, outsider. It's not often one of you gets to see the inner city, much less the Vault. We don't see many new faces around here. I'm Phyllis. What's your name?"

"I'm Rec. Nice to meet you, Phyllis," I replied, with a friendly grin.

"Wrecked?"

"No, Rec. R-E-C. It's short for 'recruit'," I explained.

"How'd you get a name like that?"

"It's a long story."

To be honest, I should be using an alias when not affiliating with my fellow Khans. Someone might recognize the name and rat me out.

"But you can call me John, if you want."

Nice. Very original.

"Okay, John. Nice to meet you. Anything I can help you with?"

That fast? Come on, Rec ain't _that _bad of a name... Is it?

"I'm here to ask Doctor Troy some questions related to diseases and mutations. Is he available?" I asked politely.

Phyllis responded, "Oh, yes! Look over there, you can see him through the window."

She motioned to her right toward the long window displaying the operation room, with a man in a lab coat standing near one of the beds.

"He's a great doctor. Go on in," Phyllis said.

"Thanks."

I walked past Phyllis, and pushed a button to the side of the door. It quickly shot upward into the cieling. Another fancy door. I stepped foot into the room, and my sense of smell was assaulted by the smell of antiseptic and various other medical fluids. Man, is that overpowering.

The man known as Troy is a middle-aged man with a balding head and thick glasses. I'm willing to bet that lab coat is a second skin to him.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Troy. How may I be of assistance?" Troy said.

"Hi, I'm John. I just had a few questions for you, pertaining to severe mutation or diseases that could have a similar effect."

"Mutations? Hold on a moment... I don't recall seeing you around before. Are you a Citizen?" Troy asked, visibly suspicious.

"I'm here with a Citizen, I just wanted to ask you a few things before we left."

"Ah, I see. Of course. Umm... You said severe mutation? Go ahead, ask." Troy said.

The best I can do in this situation is try to sound way smarter than I really am.

"Imagine a scenario where radiated DNA from another creature, invaded and attacked a host creature's DNA. If this were to occur, what would, in your professional opinion, happen to the host creature?" I inquired.

"Well, if that _were _to happen, however rare it may be, a few things could happen. First, and the most likely, would be that the host creature would unequivocally reject those invading cells and slowly die as its cells were fighting the invader's.

"Second, and less likely, might have parts of the host's DNA be replaced by the invader's, slowly changing the chemical makeup of said host as more cells become replaced. But, the whole DNA string from the invader couldn't possibly be there without a controlled surgical environment and deliberate planning, so the host in a typical scenario would end up retaining some or most of its original qualities. This is the concept for genetic engineering, and why deathclaws were designed in the way they were. They are products of many different creature's DNA.

"Third, and least likely, is full replacement of a host's DNA. If this were to happen, the host would be indistinguishable from the invader, since it simply _would be_ the invader. DNA is what makes a creature that creature. The only way this scenario could happen would be... freakish luck paired with some kind of infected DNA from an outside organism. The odds of something like this occuring to a strand of DNA is astronomical, much less the odds of something being infected with it. I'd wager the odds of this might be well into the range where you need to write the number down in the form of an equation."

"So, the third scenario is physically possible, just incalculably unlikely?"

"No, it's calculable. It might take an hour or two, but it's calculable."

Yeah, not doing that.

"Okay, let's throw luck out the window. Let's say the third option just happens. How could that be cured, or at the very least stopped?" I asked, being careful not to sound too eager.

"Well... I guess you'd have to make a virus that attacked specifically the invader's DNA. But that's incredibly dangerous, as there's no easy way to tell how much of the host consists of the invading DNA at any given point. The host could just keel over and die, losing too many cells to function.

"However, we don't understand the way in which this process would work. Say this happened to a human. What produces consciousness? The brain? Is there a soul? If the human was completely changed, including the brain, and retained its original consciousness, that would mean either a soul exists, or memory is stored in ways we don't understand yet.

"I hope I helped add to your theory. It's very thought-provoking, to be sure. Come to think of it, I wouldn't even classify that as a mutation, it would be more like a virus or disease."

He wouldn't see it as a mutation? This guy's the head of medicine in a mutant-hating technologically advanced city, and he doesn't consider full head-to-toe metamorphosis mutation? Fuck it. I'll see if he puts his money where his mouth is.

"You wouldn't consider it a mutation? But the infection would originate from mutated DNA, though." I inquired.

"Mutated DNA is very different from a mutation. Humans evolved slowly by small pieces of DNA mutating, making us what we are now. A mutation, when used in the context of a creature, means it has an attribute far outside the scope of it's natural state of being. Take for example Brahmin. They are mutants, mutated outside its species normal bounds. If you were to compare a brahmin to a pre-war cattle, you could tell the difference from as far as you could see them.

"However, if a brahmin were to be infected by mutated pre-war cattle DNA, and become a pre-war cattle, it would no longer be a mutant. It'd be what a brahmin is _supposed _to be. Likewise, if a human were infected by... oh, I don't know, mutated bird DNA and entirely became a bird. It's not a mutant bird, or a mutant human, just a bird."

"I understand. So if a human were to be infected by, say a deathclaw in this way, you wouldn't consider that human a mutant either?" I asked.

"I wouldn't think so, no. Why do you ask?"

"Can I close the shutters on that window?"

"Sure, John. But I'm curious, still."

I walked over to the long window and found a button on the side of the windowsill. I pressed it, and the thin steel plates that were once flat now turned, completely blocking the window off from prying eyes.

"I haven't shown anyone else this."

I was getting more nervous by the second, but I needed help.

"What are you talking about?" the doctor questioned.

I unbuttoned by fatigues, and took a deep breath.

Fwoosh.

I heard the sound of my fatigues falling to the ground, leaving my legs exposed, scaly thighs and all. The expression of Troy changed from confusion, to disgust, to intrigue in the span of five seconds. He was staring very intently.

I took a quick peek as well, and noticed my skin there looked rougher, and more textured than before.

"Y-you're kidding... This isn't a prank, is it?"

"No tricks here. I need your help, Troy."

He stepped closer to me, and without asking, started to touch my afflicted area.

"I can't believe it. This is... incredible. How did this happen?" he asked, intrigued by my condition.

"I was cut by a deathclaw there, and instead of finished me off, it dragged me into a nearby cave and through a bunch of toxic waste. Next thing I knew, I was sharing the cave with that deathclaw, except dead. The next day, my wound was basically gone, and when showering I noticed this. It's gotten this far under a week, and seems to spread when I'm asleep."

"It spreads when you're asleep? It may be triggered by gamma-aminobutyric acid, or adenosine... Tell me, have you experienced any blackouts or unexplained phenomena?" Troy asked.

"Well, like I said, the deathclaw that originally hurt me ended up dead somehow, and when I was camping out for the night, there was lots of blood outside my tent. Still creeps me out, I hope I wasn't followed to Vault City."

"I'm sure you don't need to worry about that, but you may need to worry about yourself..."

"What are you saying, Troy?"

"My hypothesis is that was all done by _you_, John. While you were unaware and sleeping. Your infection must have gotten to your brain."

Seriously? Me? _I_ did that to that deathclaw? It looked like something only a behemoth of a monster could do... How could I have done that?

"I don't think you saw the dead deathclaw. Its jaw was ripped halfway down its torso. Even if I lost control, there's no way I could have done that," I explained.

"Hmm... Stay here. I'll be right back."

Doctor Troy opened the door leading outside the lab, and disappeared from sight.

After a few minutes of waiting, he was waddling through the door holding some... weights? Looked like a set of dumbbells. He set them down and closed the door behind him.

"These weights go up to thirty pounds each. Come over here," Troy asked.

I pulled up my pants, and obliged.

"What do you want me to do with these?"

Troy replied, "I want you to take the thirty-pound dumbbells and curl them."

"Alright."

I reached for the thirty-pounders, grabbed the handles, and hoisted them off the small rack. To my surprise, I used too much force and almost fell flat on my ass.

"W-what the?"

These things had to be hollow.

"These dumbbells have to be hollow, Troy."

"No, John, they're genuine. See for yourself."

I curled them over and over, and didn't feel an ounce of weight. It was like I was curling cardboard, as if nothing was in my hands at all. How did I not notice this before?

"Just as I thought. But I don't know what causes you to lose control when you sleep. Would you care to partake in an experiment? These are questions that need answers."

I'm starting to regret telling this guy my secret. What if he sedates me and keeps me locked inside this vault for a hundred years like I joked about before?

But, at the same time, he's my only hope right now. I have to trust him.

"As long as it won't hurt."

"Splendid. Let me get something, hold on..."

Troy rummaged through a few desks, grabbing things here and there. Eventually he made his way to a medicine cabinet and took a few things from there, as well. After a few minutes, he pushed a small metal cart with a bunch of medical knick-knacks on it over to a bed.

He patted the bed next to the cart and said, "Come, lay down here."

I sauntered over to the bed and promptly laid down in it. It was really comfy, actually.

"First, I want to take a sample of blood, then I'd like to do a few tests on it before we proceed."

I nodded in confirmation, and he pulled a syringe out of his pocket. Is that sterile?

Without any time for me to ask, he pricked me with it and drew some blood, then put a little bandage over the puncture. Satisfied, he walked the blood sample, along with a few syringes of other liquids, over to a microscope on the other side of the room.

I must have been laying there for a while, 'cause I was getting tired. And I didn't think Cole would be taking this long. I wonder if he left without me? Ah, whatever. He's a good guy, but I don't want to bring him any trouble.

The doctor made some noises, shouted 'interesting' a couple times. The usual doctor stuff.

Eventually though, he turned from his microscope and walked over to me.

"I've discovered something about your condition." he stated.

"What?"

"First I must tell you about two chemicals. Gamma-aminobutyric acid, or GABA, is responsible for the act of falling asleep and staying asleep. Adenosine is a chemical that hinders the chemical that keeps you awake, making you tired.

"I've found that GABA reacts with the invading DNA in an interesting way, as does adenosine. When exposed to GABA, the invading DNA enters an active state, where it's constantly moving and producing energy, but it stops spreading to other cells. But, when exposed to adenosine, the DNA enters a more 'dormant' state while infecting cells at an alarming rate.

"In other words, when you're sleeping the infection is at its most active, but doesn't spread - and when you're tired, this is when it spreads like wildfire."

I replied, "So I just have to avoid becoming tired?"

"You need sleep, you can't stay awake forever. On a drug-related note, though... you could take GABA manually, possibly with a type of adrenaline, to create a kind of Psycho-like drug effect on yourself. You could also take adenosine if you wanted to further your condition."

"Why would I ever want to do that? I want to stop this thing."

"To me, the only logical options are to try to create a virus that will kill the invading DNA, or to forcefully progress your condition to its completion, leaving less time spent suffering and more time spent finding something to manage it. Though I do think the former is out of the question, seeing as your brain is infected as well, we don't know how much of your brain would die."

He had a point. Brain-dead was far worse. I could cut the suffering out of the equation by forcing this thing to completion.

But on the other hand, I could try to enjoy what time I have left and ride it out as long as possible.

Fuck it.

"I'll take you up on that, Doc. Let's do it."

"Well, that's the thing. We can't perform the procedure here, and I can't go with you. We can't have a deathclaw roaming Vault City freely. You'll have to leave the premises and use the medication somewhere else."

"How are you going to help me regain control? When this fully progresses, I don't expect to be able to control myself at all, given what happens when I'm sleeping," I asked.

Troy replied, "I'll continue running tests on your blood sample, and when I figure out how to help you... Hmm..."

"Ah! I know. When I figure it out, I'll offer a reward to who can subdue and bring you here captive, as a test subject of mine. Do you have any birthmarks to identify you with?"

I quickly replied, "Yeah, I do have a birthmark. It's a dark spot on my left shoulderblade."

Without asking, Troy lifted up my shirt and moved me on my side to look at it himself.

"About three inches across, two inches high, roughly oval-shaped birthmark on left shoulderblade... Alright, got it. You should do this as soon as possible, I'll start working on the treatment as soon as you leave," Troy stated.

After he was done, I got up out of the bed.

"Here, I mixed these doses of adenosine with a small amount of stimulant to prevent the drowsiness. This is all you should need. Take a few minutes between doses," Troy said, as he handed me a small plastic bag of what looked like five or six full syringes.

"Thanks, Doc. I really appreciate your help. Good luck on your research."

"I'm honored to be a part of this research, it may be the most important scientific discovery in recent history. Stay strong out there, John," Doctor Troy said.

And with that, I opened the door to the medical bay and stepped through.

"Nice meeting you, Phyllis. I'll be going now," I said, as I passed Phyllis on my way outside.

"Oh! Your friend left already. He said he's waiting for you at the bar in the courtyard."

Damn, I took a lot longer than I thought I would. A drink sounds nice though, I need one. This is going to be a long night.

"Thanks, Phyllis. Goodbye," I waved, while walking away.

Soon I was exiting the front blast doors, and it was nearly night already. Wow, I _really_ lost track of time in there. No natural light at all really messes with your internal clock.

I nodded to the guards, and made my way to the gate leading out to the courtyard. I knocked on it, and the guards on the other side opened it.

"We were about to come get you. Good timing. And here's these back," the guard said, while handing me back my Mentats. Oh, I forgot about those.

"Thanks," I said, while walking past them.

I walked for a couple minutes until I got to the courtyard. I looked around for a bit until I spotted the building with a sign on it that just said... Bar. Huh. Descriptive.

I grabbed and twisted the flimsy doorknob, and pushed the door in. Loud conversation and the aroma of alcohol flooded my senses, and I felt totally comfortable in it. Sitting at one of the barstools chatting with the bartender, I spotted a man wearing a Vault suit with the number thirteen on the back. Cole.

Approaching the bar, I sat on the open seat to his left.

"Hey Cole! Sorry I took so long, we had a lot to talk about!" I yelled, struggling to hear myself in the loud room.

"That's fine, man! Here, have a drink! It's on me!" he yelled back, while pushing a full glass of beer toward me.

Ah, what a guy. He truly was the superhero of the Wasteland. He even had the tights.

I gulped the tall glass of beer down in just under a minute, relishing the effects of the alcohol. This buzz was long overdue, I haven't gotten my drink on in a long time. The bartender was also a pretty interesting older guy, named John Cassidy. He had many scars all over him from his previous adventures, and he had a lot of stories to tell about them.

The rest of my time at the bar was spend laughing, throwing darts, telling stories, drinking more beer. It was the best few hours I've had since before the start of all this madness. But, good things always come to an end, so I took my leave, much to the dissappointment of Cole. I hate to ditch him, but there's things that need to be done. Before I left I bought an old, busted up flashlight from John. It still works, surprisingly. Pretty bright, too.

I pushed open the door to the outside, and a cold breeze hit me from the depths of the night. Yeah, tonight's gonna be a long night.

I opened my pack and produced a jacket from it, and quickly slipped it on, then started walking away from town. No specific direction, just away.

After probably thirty minutes, I spotted a rocky outcrop silhouetted by the starry sky. Walking over to it, I noticed that there was actually a cavity underneath a portion of the rocks. It was probably twenty feet in either side. I walked down into the cavity, and stuck my flashlight into the dirt ground facing upward. It did a pretty good job of lighting this space up.

I sat down on the ground and got the plastic bag out of my pack and stared at it in my hands. This is my last chance to back out. If I didn't go back toward town, I'm doing this now.

I'm no coward, I'm a Khan. Khans don't fear torture, or even death.

I open the plastic bag, and grab one of the syringes, taking the cap off the needle.

This is it, Rec. You can do this.

/

* * *

Notes: It's about to happen! Or is it? No, it will. Will it? Sorry for more long, boring dialogue. In the scope of what I have planned for this, one or two dialogue chapters is basically nothing. On a side note: I'm correctly reformatting the previous chapters' dialogue since I apparently forgot how English worked until last week.

And don't forget to reviewwww pls i need criticism


	6. Chapter 6

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I stammered, holding a syringe against my arm.

I don't think I can do it. What's happened to me? I was never this afraid of anything before. Am I just grasping at what remains of my humanity, trying to hold on? I don't know what this disease, mutation, what-the-fuck-ever is going to do to my mind. Am I right to be a coward? Is it justified?

I can feel tears lightly tapping on my fatigues, dripping down from my face. I knew for sure at that point, the infection had definitely altered my brain. Thinking back, the signs were everywhere. I was able to hold an intelligent conversation, interact with normal wastelanders. I had changed so gradually that I hadn't even noticed I was acting different, thinking more critically. Not to mention I wasn't fatigued digging that hole for my tent.

Before all this happened, I was your typical raider scum. Somewhere along the line, that all changed. However, I do find humor in the irony of the fact that I've gained a sense of empathy from the DNA of the deadliest creature in the wastes. Maybe we don't understand them properly. Or, they don't understand us. Question is, which am I now? Am I 'us', or 'them'?

Thinking existentially is something that was very new to me. I was still in denial of my changing mind as I sat there with one of the syringes in my hand.

I put the syringe back in the plastic bag, and stuffed it into a nicely hidden pouch deep in my backpack.

"What's happening to me... Why me?" I spoke, to no one in particular.

All of a sudden, I heard a voice from behind me.

"Rec? What's going on?"

I spun around to see Cole standing before me, a look of confusion plastered upon his face.

"You shouldn't be here," I said, with defeat present in my voice.

"What's in the needles? I didn't take you for a dope fiend," Cole replied, seemingly ignoring my request.

"I just met you today, Cole. Why are you following me as if you're my friend?"

"You were acting weird in the bar, and left into the pitch-black wasteland. I'd make sure a total stranger is okay, let alone someone who I know by name."

I replied with a smirk, "You really are a superhero, ain't ya?"

Cole shifted uneasily. I turned around to face the inner wall of the small cave, looking down at the ground, my hands on my hips, waiting for him to leave.

"Wha... Rec, what's that?" Cole spoke with urgency.

"What?" I spun around to face him again.

"Turn back around again."

I obliged. A few seconds passed, and suddenly I felt my fatigues swoosh down to my ankles. Cole had pantsed me, the bastard. Only after five more seconds, did I realize the implications of this prank. He could see my affliction, plain as day. But why would he do such a thing in the first place?

"What the hell is this? It looks like -"

"Deathclaw hide."

Cole had a dumbfounded look on his face, as if he was learning the words I spoke for the first time.

"What happened to you? No - what IS happening to you?"

I spun around to face him yet again and said, "How did you know?"

"You can't feel that? Touch the base of your spine."

Slowly, I reached behind myself and felt around back there. To my surprise, there was a protrusion as if my tailbone had been extended, the texture of this alien appendage matching my thighs.

"I'm slowly turning into a deathclaw, inside and out. There's no possible way to stop it without killing me entirely."

With a massive sigh, I said, "The syringes would accelerate my condition to completion, to answer your previous question. That's what I'm doing out here. Or, trying may be a better word. I can't work up the nerve."

"You shouldn't need to work up any nerve, this shouldn't be happening to you. If there's anything I can do to help, just ask," Cole replied.

I can't seem to inject myself and potentially destroy what remains of my humanity. But maybe I can ask Cole to do it, since my brain won't allow me to. I'd like to just get this over with, it's dragging on too long.

"Cole, would you administer the medication to me? I can't do it."

The wind outside the cave was howling, and the shadows of the pitch black darkness beyond the mouth of the cave melted and flowed together. If there were someone else listening or watching, we'd be none the wiser.

After a few moments, Cole said, "I don't want to be responsible for your death, or someone else's."

"Cole, this disease will fully progress whether you help me or not. I don't want to suffer and grasp at false hope, hanging by a thread as the last of my humanity is drained slowly. Please, just help me out here!"

Cole thought for a long time. He was standing there for what seemed like close to ten minutes before he spoke up.

"Fine, but I'm going to be watching you closely. Is there anyone else that knows about this?"

"Doctor Troy is the one who gave me this medication. He said he'd try to help me further after my condition progresses completely, by ordering the Vault City patrols to capture me for research purposes in his lab. There can't suddenly be a deathclaw in his wing, apparently. I'm assuming all those stiffs are going to want paperwork and approval. You should fill him in on any news worth mentioning, especially my mental state."

Cole nodded after each sentence, eventually grunting in approval after all was said.

He replied, "I'll do just that. You can count on me!"

"Don't make it weird, superhero. Alright... Let me get the medication out."

I fumbled through my backpack, reached down into the deepest pouch in there, and pulled the plastic bag out. I handed the whole bag to Cole, who then took out the syringe I had opened, and made sure there wasn't any air in the needle.

"Just... Make it quick, Cole."

Ow!

That was quick. He stabbed me directly in the bicep and slid the plunger down. We stared at each other for more than ten seconds after all the liquid was drained.

"I don't feel any different," I said, impatiently.

"Considering there's four syringes the Doc gave you, maybe you need another dose. Or maybe it just doesn't act instantly."

"I don't know."

All of a sudden, I got a huge vertigo rush, and almost toppled over were it not for Cole gingerly sitting me down.

"Hey, hey, hey. Easy now,"

I piped up, "Whoa, that came on fast. It feels like-"

_Ba-dump. _  
_Ba-dump. _  
_Ba-dump._  
_Ba-dump._

I could feel myself seizing, shaking in place as my heart pumped blood a mile a minute. It was terrifying, it felt like my body was going to break. My muscles were all tensed harder than I ever could tense them myself, like advanced tetanus. Unable to move my eyes, I could see in what little peripheral vision I had that Cole was laying me down, then went outside my vision, probably to a safe viewing place.

I began to shake even more violently, and started to sweat profusely. I could feel my muscle fibers tearing themselves by flexing past the limits of human physiology. Soon, it looked and felt as if I had jumped into a pool. My fingernails fell off completely, leaving sensitive flesh underneath exposed to the dirty air, stinging with pain. I could feel my organs slithering and sliding inside of me, a sensation I wouldn't wish on my worst foe.

Then, it got worse. Far worse.

I stopped shaking just enough to roll over on my side and vomit. What came out of my mouth was pints and pints of blood, likely from my organs bleeding internally.

I could feel my tongue stretching, as if an invisible force was pulling on it, becoming thinner.

I then experienced an indescribable amount of pain. My bones started to snap, loud cracking noises flooding throughout the small cave. I was able to look down at myself long enough to see my shins and femurs displacing themselves to a more digitigrade stance, the skin rough.

My fingers felt like someone had stuffed them into a meat grinder. I could feel the bones stretching, something that science dictates should not be possible. The insides of my fingertips were hollowing out, to leave room for the massive claws that would come later.

After a certain point, there was so much pain that my brain completely broke, and I felt no pain whatsoever. But, the changes continued.

I watched and felt as my arms packed on mass and the bones broke and reformed multiple times to become longer. My chest and legs also started to gain incredible amounts of mass, tissues expanding outward to accomodate my increasing frame. My feet were reshaping themselves into raptor-like talons, and I could feel them getting larger, displacing the dirt under my toes, and the two smallest toes falling off, leaving three on each foot.

Now, not having a grand mal seizure, I started to vocalize, yet it wasn't my voice. Guttural sounds and strange noises came out of my throat, completely foreign to me. At that moment, my jaw snapped as my face started to elongate into a short, blunt muzzle, nose flattening against it. I groaned as the skin on my forehead burst open, giving way to two curved, sharp horns. My teeth cracked apart, becoming sharp and pointed throughout.

My skin had started to harden. It felt incredibly itchy as if ants were biting all across my body, and within a minute or two all of my epidermis was a tough, brown, scaly hide. My protruding tailbone started to thicken and gain length, slowly becoming a large and heavy tail.

The last vestiges of my humanity washed away as my hollow fingertips began to form the bases of my claws inside. Within seconds, they inched out from my fingertips until reaching their full length, each one longer than a bowie knife. The claws on my toes pushed themselves out fully, as my ankles retreated away, making it impossible to stand in any position but digitigrade.

My eyesight got very blurry, and blinking a few times, suddenly I realized that I was seeing differently. The black night beyond the mouth of the cave looked as dark as evening - I could see in the dark.

My senses seemed different. Not only was my vision different, but I was hearing things differently too - not in any way that I can describe. I could also taste and smell things far away from me, which didn't make any sense to my still conscious mind.

I tried to stand upright to no avail, my new horns smacking the cave's ceiling.

I was hungry beyond any reasonable understanding. With the amount of calories my metamorphosis consumed, I should be a sack of dust. I could see below me, my shredded clothes and busted apart combat boots. I didn't feel myself break out of any of that. My old boot, if still intact, would barely fit over a single toe now.

This made no sense, it should be impossible, but here I am.

After looking down at myself and at my hands for a few minutes, taking in what has happened to me, I realized again how hungry I was. This time, there was no internal debate. Through no volition of my own, my body made a mad dash out of the cave, footfalls thudding the ground.

Soon, I discovered that I could do nothing but watch myself. My body was outside of my control, instincts taking completely over. I noticed Cole barely within my peripheral vision, hiding behind a nearby rock. I could see no expression on his face, only a set of eyes peeking. It was hard to see him to begin with, as I couldn't even choose where my body's eyes are looking at - it's a very strange sensation.

At first, I was panicking internally, trying to talk to myself, or relay some kind of mental message to my body to please listen. None of it worked.

Eventually, after quite a long run, I stumbled upon a fence-enclosed pasture, with brahmin sleeping soundly. I could tell where this was going to go, and I couldn't close my eyes to avoid watching.

My body crept up to a sleeping brahmin, and with one forceful swipe, it's head came clean off, spurting blood everywhere. I could feel my claws passing through it's flesh like a hot knife to butter. Looking at the corpse, I got a true sense of scale for myself. I was absolutely towering over this brahmin - I must be three feet taller than what I was before. It still made no sense to me.

After finishing that thought, my body crouched down and starting biting off huge chunks of flesh from it's prey, nearly swallowing each massive chunk whole. The other brahmin stirred awake, and ran as far as they could in the pasture once they saw what was happening.

Many minutes go by, still feasting.

Eventually, nearly all that's left is a pile of bones.

It... Felt thrilling, to hunt and eat something raw like that. Something humans will never get to experience. It's not exactly my style, if I had a choice I never would have hunted in this way. But it was exhilarating, and in a way, pure.

My rationale creeped back in, screaming that this was wrong. I can't enjoy devouring things like a monster, even vicariously. I'm a human. It's not right.

That's interesting, when did I get such a moral compass? I've raided countless settlements, after all.

My body decided it must be time to go, as it broke into a relatively fast walk, in the direction of the cave I was in before. On the way back, the wasteland was dead quiet, no sounds of any bugs, gunshots, nothing. Is this what it's like to be an apex predator?

Eventually, I had made it back to the cave, and crawled inside. I didn't see Cole outside, he must have trailed me. I hope he didn't see me back there at the pasture.

Soon after laying down inside the cave, I looked at my hands again. Unbelievable... I wonder what Bones and the guys would think of me now? Could I ever return

_"Do I even want to return?"_ I wondered.

Wait, I was looking at my hands. I had control of my body again!

I sat up unsteadily on foreign legs, and exited the cave once more, looking for any signs of Cole. I have to tell him what's going on inside my head. As if answering my prayers, he slowly came out from behind a large boulder near the cave mouth, with his hands in the air.

He spoke slowly, "Easy now. Rec, that you in there buddy?"

"ROOAR!"

I immediately covered my mouth with my hands, not expecting myself to sound like that. I tried out a softer vocalization, and it didn't come out right either. I don't know how to use this voice, I'm basically a newborn baby. I have to figure out everything from scratch...

I just nodded my head and pointed with a long index claw toward myself. That got the point across.

"What happened back there at the pasture, Rec? Why'd you do that?" Cole asked, worry easily noticeable in his voice.

I pointed at my face, and shook my head 'no'.

"What do you mean 'no'?"

I again pointed at myself, more vigorously this time, and shook my head 'no'.

"That wasn't you?"

Right!

"Then who was it?"

I extended one clawed hand, and pointed at it with the other.

"The deathclaw?"

Yes! Yes!

Cole stood there for a minute or two, then a surprised look appeared on his visage.

"You lost control of yourself?"

I nodded again.

"This is bad. I'll tell Doc Troy about this tomorrow. I'm going to head back into the city. Try to hold on for as long as you can. We're going to find a solution," Cole proudly stated, before turning on his heels and walking back to Vault City.

As for me, I'm dead tired and exhausted, so I crawled back into the cave and tried to sleep. I immediately tried as hard as I could to fall asleep, finding out that it was pretty easy. Soon after closing my eyes, my mind started to drift somewhere deep, where no light shines...  
_

_Suddenly, I opened my eyes._  
_I'm standing on a calm ocean, the surface of the water not breaking._  
_I look around me, there's nothing but water for miles._  
_Then, I look down at my body. I'm myself again! I internally breathed a sigh of relief._  
_"See?" A voice said from behind me._  
_Startled, I whipped around and sputtered out, "Huh?"_  
_It's the old man from before. I can see him much more clearly now, he must be in his eighties._  
_"What do you mean, 'see'?" I asked._  
_"You do not accept yourself as you stand in reality, and you will suffer. You were relieved to not be yourself. Look again."_  
_I didn't need to look again, I knew he had made me back into a deathclaw._  
_"I didn't ask for this. I don't want this. Why is this happening to me?"_  
_"I cannot answer such questions. I can only point your foolish actions out. You will only cause suffering for yourself and everyone around you, if you do not tame the beast within you."_  
_The old man then extended his hand, offering it to me._  
_He spoke, "Do you trust me?"_  
_I stared at him for a few seconds before asking, "Who are you?"_  
_He retracted his hand._  
_"Don't cry," he said, while turning away from me._  
_I could hear the water behind me rippling._  
_I turned around, and my heart dropped into my stomach._  
_An unbelievably massive tidal wave, miles high, was approaching me from the distance. I craned my neck backwards to see the top. The sun was blotted out._  
_I was panicking, trying to force myself to wake up as the wave came closer._  
_Hyperventilating, the wave was engulfing my entire vision._  
_"Help! Help!" I screamed, as the huge tidal wave was about to absorb me into itself.  
__

/

Notes: It's been, like, over a year. I had some life issues to work out and I stopped writing entirely at some point. Now, things have gotten better in my life and I'm actually in a stable place. There's probably five people who even care about this update, but I'm writing for fun anyways. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter and the future ones! We're getting close to the "Present-day" time, in case anyone was wondering, this is still in the past. Was fun to write the change finally! It's really graphic, was a bit uncomfortable writing it, but that's kind of the point I guess. Let me know if graphic scenes like this are too much.


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